


Quest for Life

by Gilli_ann



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet, Bonding, Dragons, Fate & Destiny, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Prophecy, Quests, Romance, Shapeshifting, Surprises, Time slip, Unicorns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-06 08:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12814050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: Desperate to save the dying Arthur after the battle of Camlann, Merlin creates a magical bond between the two of them. At the cost of his own strength, he manages to help Arthur stay alive for a little longer, but they urgently need a permanent cure. Arthur and Merlin embark on a challenging quest for healing that takes them to the Isle of Avalon and beyond. Their life-saving adventure also turns out to be life-changing.





	Quest for Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skitz_phenom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skitz_phenom/gifts).



> Dear Skitz_phenom, the happiest of holidays to you! This has been written based on the one among your prompts that inspired me the most, and I've tried my best to include a sprinkling of your suggested tags. I had fun writing this, and I hope you like the result.
> 
> Thank you so much to my hilarious and ever efficient beta, Gwyllion. And thank you to the MH mods for organizing the fest!
> 
> Disclaimer: The BBC's Merlin belongs to the BBC and Shine TV. I intend no copyright infringement and make no profit from writing this.

  
  
  
_"It's too late."_  
_"No."_  
_"All your magic, Merlin, and you can't save my life."_  
_"I can. I'm not going to lose you."_

* * * *

"Just, just hold me. Please," Arthur gasped, struggling to speak.

Merlin held him tight, so tight, and felt how Arthur's strong body was giving up the fight at last, preparing for the journey into darkness. 

"You're not going to say goodbye," Merlin entreated. "I won't let you die."

Arthur tried to respond, but Merlin shushed him. "Don't speak, Arthur. Just stay with me. Stay with me!"

Frantic, Merlin looked across the landscape in front of them. The morning sun bathed everything in shimmering light, making forests and fields look fresh and golden. They were only a short distance away from Lake Avalon, their destination, where the waters rippled pleasantly along the shore.

It was a brand new day with so many possibilities— how could Arthur be dying, now that all of nature seemed made anew? They were so close to the lake, so close to the Sidhe magic with its healing powers.

Although he knew it to be in vain, hoping against hope, Merlin threw his head back and roared the ancient dragonlord command. _"O drakon! E male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"_

There was no response, not the tiniest flutter in the part of Merlin's mind that would sense his link to the great dragon. Kilgharrah had been close to dying last time they met, and had said goodbye. Now he was gone, and all his magic powers and cryptic wisdom with him.

Arthur rested heavy and silent against Merlin's chest. He hadn't reacted to Merlin's dragonlord roar. Gently, Merlin eased himself out from under Arthur's body. He knelt beside him, taking his hand, and looked at Arthur's pale and peaceful face. 

Unconscious now, his eyes closed forever against life and light, Arthur was dying on the green hillside.

Merlin's grief tore at him like a beast with claws and teeth. He couldn't let this happen! He wouldn't! He was magic itself, Balinor had told him so, and he believed his father. He'd stepped out of the Crystal Cave embracing his destiny as the most powerful sorcerer that ever walked the earth. All that magic had to be enough, there _had_ to be a way.

He pulled Arthur into his arms, embracing him tightly. They were chest to chest, heart to heart. Merlin held on, pressing himself to Arthur, reaching out, ordering the slumbering magic consciousness of the land and air and waters to provide him with the answer he so desperately needed. 

All of a sudden, an ancient spell rose in his mind. He opened his eyes wide, knowing they were blazing with fire. Without hesitation or doubt, he let the words of the powerful incantation wash across Arthur's silent face. 

In the very moment when the evil shard from Mordred's accursed blade reached Arthur's heart and extinguished the last embers of his life, Merlin bound himself to Arthur, and Arthur to him, in the long-forgotten ritual of lifeforce sharing. Merlin felt the bond like an almost physical presence, and sensed his own strength draining as it entered Arthur. The share of Arthur's lifeforce that he should have received in return to replace what he had given, wasn't there. It was as if an empty hollow was forming in his chest. He nearly fainted, and had to lie down next to Arthur, holding on to his hand, clinging to the tenuous reassurance of their new connection.

They were tied together by an invisible bond, the two of them sharing Merlin's lifeforce. That would keep them alive, Merlin realized, but not for very long. It was not meant to support two grown men. They would both remain weak until Arthur's health could be restored to him.

It would have to do. Gently, Merlin leaned in, cupping Arthur's head, whispering his name. "Arthur, can you hear me? Wake up, come back to me."

It seemed a miracle when Arthur slowly opened his eyes, blinked, and looked up at Merlin. "How long have I slept?" 

Merlin's laugh sounded more like a sob. "Not long at all, just a wink. But now we need to get going."

Arthur sat up. He sighed. "I feel strange. I feel different. What..." 

He paused, and his bright blue eyes regained their piercing clarity. "What have you done, Merlin?"

* * * *

Step by step they hobbled their slow way to the shores of the lake. It was afternoon when they finally reached it, and Merlin's innards were clamouring for food.

He bent down, gathering water in the palms of his hand, drinking greedily. Next to him, Arthur knelt down and did the same, splashing his sweaty face with a scoop of the cool water.

Arthur looked at the lake, where banks of drifting fog continued to obscure the waters further out. "What a desolate place. Wasn't there supposed to be an island?" 

"Yes," Merlin replied, rising to his feet, feeling lightheaded. "The Isle of Avalon, where the most ancient magic of the Sidhe resides. It remains hidden from mortal eyes, but it's there. And that's where you should be healed, and your life and strength returned to you."

"Sounds good. It's not that I don't appreciate the use of yours, from what you told me, but I'd rather have my own back." 

Merlin looked around, surprised at how quiet it was. He couldn't see any of the bright shapes that he had expected, not a single Sidhe flitting lightning-fast across the lake waters.

"Are they hiding?" he murmured into the air, confused.

Arthur glanced at him and grinned a little. "You don't sound entirely sure about this. I take it you're not certain what awaits us?"

"No," Merlin admitted. "I have seen the Sidhe and their powers before, but they are capricious, sometimes cruel, and their reasons are their own. I won't claim to understand them."

"The sooner we find out, then, the better it is," Arthur said, royal decisiveness in his voice and expression. "How do we alert them to our presence?"

"I think they know we're here," Merlin said, and pointed. 

A dark shape appeared in the billowing mists. It was a long, slender boat, its woods darkened by centuries of use. It came gliding towards them silently and quickly, although it was not possible to determine what force was propelling it forward. The boat was empty.

"All you magic-users are such show-offs," Arthur grumbled. "Would it kill you to use oars like the rest of us?"

Merlin laughed. "You never rowed a boat in your pampered royal life."

"And it seems I still won't have to," Arthur said cheerfully, stepping into the ancient vessel and reaching for Merlin. "Come on, let's not keep the mysterious lake powers waiting."

* * * *

As their boat left the shore, Merlin was reminded of his journeys to the Isle of the Blessed. There was the same quiet, the same sense of leaving the world of the living behind and crossing through a veil to another world. The persistent mist increased this impression. It rolled away reluctantly as the sharp prow of their boat cut through it, leaving moisture clinging to hair and skin.

"I sense the magic of the Isle," Arthur said in a low voice. "It's like a beacon in front of us, even if I can't see it."

Merlin turned to him, not masking his surprise, and Arthur shrugged. "Your lifeforce is tied up with your magic, I assume? You probably can't share the one without adding a bit of the other."

Merlin was completely dumbstruck. For him to have hidden his magic away from Arthur all these years, only for Arthur to end up experiencing that magic within himself!

"Don't be alarmed," Arthur said soothingly, seeing his reaction. "I don't think I'm quite ready to start throwing fireballs around or anything like that. But I do feel different."

Merlin nodded. He didn't know what to say. He sensed the bond linking him to Arthur and the way it drained his energy, even as it filled him with joy that he was keeping Arthur alive. He just hoped their link didn't drain his magic too. He might need his powers soon enough.

A glint of metal caught his eye. It was Excalibur, safe in its sheath at Arthur's side. Too late Merlin realized that the steel would prevent them from going ashore on the Isle. The ancient magic residing there would not allow cold worked steel in its presence. 

Once more, he had to come up with a solution in the blink of an eye. He drew a deep breath before raising his voice, shouting across the empty waters. "Freya! Freya, it's Merlin, and I ask for your help once more."

"What?" Arthur said. "Who is Freya?"

The boat slowed its progress, and came to a standstill on the water, small waves lapping around it with soft sounds almost like sighs. 

An arm rose slowly out of the water right next to them, its small hand wide open, the pale skin shimmering with water drops like diamonds.

Merlin smiled even as he had to blink back tears. He could discern a lithe shape in the water, and long, dark hair flowing around a pale oval that had to be a face. But her features were blurred.

"This is Freya, the Lady of the Lake," he told Arthur. "She will keep your sword for you while we are on the Isle."

"More magic," Arthur grumbled, nevertheless loosening his belt and drawing Excalibur from its sheath without hesitation. The cold blade glimmered, untarnished by Mordred and Morgana's blood, so recently spilled. 

Arthur leaned out, carefully placing the golden hilt in Freya's hand. "Thank you, my lady, and may you guard Excalibur well," he said, his voice solemn. Merlin felt like cheering.

Freya sank back into the deep, taking the sword with her. Soon it was gone from sight, and the boat shot forward once more.

"I marvel that I walked through life thinking magic could be banished," Arthur mused. "It seems to be everywhere, all the time."

"This lake is special, you can't judge ordinary places based on this," Merlin replied. "But even so, you're not really wrong."

There was something darker than just fog looming in front of them now. The mists suddenly rolled aside, and they saw the Isle. Green fields and lush slopes rose towards a peak that was crowned by a magnificent Tor. On the far side of the hill, ancient temple structures and standing stone circles dotted the land, which looked fertile, but deserted. Magic hummed in the air. The sky was grey. 

Taken aback, Merlin spoke his reaction out loud. "Is this where the Sidhe live? I had expected something else. This almost resembles the Isle of the Blessed."

"Is that bad?" Arthur asked, leaning forward so he could speak to Merlin in a whisper. "Are we in danger?"

"The Isle of the Blessed is the most sacred place of the Old Religion," Merlin explained. "But maybe this is just an illusion created to confuse us."

There was a flash of colour by the nearest circle of standing stones. Several shapes dressed in red were moving up there, and they were by no means as small as the Sidhe. Merlin squinted, trying to see better, but the standing stones were too far away. 

Their boat came to rest on a shallow beach, its keel scraping across white sands. Arthur immediately stepped into the shallow water and splashed ashore.

"Whatever awaits us, I'd like to face it standing on my feet," he said, gesturing for Merlin to follow him. 

Merlin realized that even if Arthur hadn't asked him to, the bond between them would have compelled him to follow his king. It tugged at him like an actual rope tied around his chest.

They stood, side by side, watching as three women in crimson dresses approached them, gliding in single file at a stately pace. 

Merlin's heart gave a jolt as he recognized them, one after the other. "It _has_ to be an illusion," he muttered.

"I hope you're right," Arthur said. "If not, we've jumped right from the frying pan into the fire. Those three are more likely to murder us, and to take their time about it."

They didn't speak again, for the women were drawing near. 

"Welcome to Avalon, King Arthur," Nimueh said. "We have been waiting for you. Although every prophesy told us that you'd come alone." 

She looked over at Merlin with her enigmatic smile, her blue eyes icy cold. "We meet again, Merlin."

"Uh, hello, how have you been?" Merlin said, stupidly.

All three women's faces cracked as they tried to remain solemn despite his awkwardness. Morgana rolled her eyes. 

"Are you Sidhe in disguise?" Merlin blurted out. "You're not who you pretend to be, we know that much. Nimueh, Morgause, and Morgana are dead."

Morgana smirked. "You would know, Merlin. You killed all of us yourself."

Merlin shook his head. "That wasn't—"

She didn't wait for him to finish. "The High Priestesses of the Great Goddess come to the Isle of Avalon to spend the afterlife. Every priest and priestess knows as much."

"We are who we seem to be," Morgause confirmed. "But we hold no more grudges, now that our new lives have begun."

"We have left petty strife and conflicts behind," Nimueh added piously. "Avalon is a place of peace, and we are content to do Her will."

"The afterlife?" Arthur said, speaking for the first time. "Are we dead, too?"

"You passed through the veil, King Arthur, and left your world," Nimueh replied, as if explaining something to a child. "Didn't you notice?"

"But you're actually _much_ more alive than we had forseen," Morgause added.

"We had prepared your resting place already," Morgana said. "A proper bed where a king may sleep through the ages. I dare say it's big enough for the both of you. It seems that Merlin clings to you like a burr, Arthur, no matter the circumstances. He might as well stay here, too."

"I don't want to sleep through any ages, with Merlin or without him," Arthur said, disappointment creeping into his voice. "I was told that this place had magic that could heal me from my wound, and make me whole again. We were going to ask the Sidhe for help."

"The Sidhe cannot help now that you are bound to Merlin," Morgause said. "Their magic and his are not compatible. Merlin has thwarted them one time too many, and they are a vindictive lot. They are hiding from him."

Arthur looked dejected. He turned to Merlin, trying to appear stoic. "What now? Any bright ideas?"

Merlin shook his head, feeling at a loss. He wanted to believe that the three sorceresses were lying, but Morgause's words had the ring of simple truth. The Sidhe had every reason to be angry with him.

He felt very tired. The discouraging news, and the tension in speaking with the three High Priestesses, all of them his sworn enemies, sapped his strength. He wobbled on his feet, clutching at Arthur to stay upright. Arthur supported him from sheer tenacious force of will. Clearly, he was exhausted too.

"Be our guests tonight, and rest here," Nimueh said. "Avalon's air is refreshing, and the apples from the Isle's groves are rejuvenating. We will scry for an alternate solution to your predicament, if that is what you truly want."

"It is," Arthur confirmed.

"Follow us, it is not far," Morgause said, and all three women turned away, gliding as silently now as when they appeared.

Arthur looked at Merlin, uncertain. "Is it a trap?"

"Maybe," Merlin conceded. "But I don't know what else we can do. We are at their mercy for now."

"Oh well," Arthur said, suddenly cheerful. "I'm no worse off than I was yesterday. This is a pretty place. Give me your hand, let's walk together."

Merlin couldn't help smiling. He placed his hand in Arthur's, and they walked slowly along the green fields, following a path strewn with small white flowers. The physical connection between the two of them made Merlin feel stronger. They would have to stay very close if they were going to make it until they could find a way to restore Arthur's lifeforce. 

"It's a beautiful place," Arthur mused. "I couldn't wish for a better resting place for Morgana."

Merlin nodded, remembering the haggard corpse they had left on the hillside just one day ago.

"I feel the magic here very strongly," Arthur continued. "It's like a vibration in the ground, rising up through my body and reaching for the sky. It's the strangest feeling, but not unpleasant. Everything here seems very alive."

Merlin looked at him with wide eyes. "This will take a long, long time to get used to," he muttered.

Arthur threw his head back and laughed; the loud, carefree laughter of old. "Welcome to my world, oh servant-turned-sorcerer," he grinned.

Merlin felt a warm glow inside. Whatever was to happen next, he regretted nothing as long as Arthur would only be laughing like this again. During Morgana's final military campaign and the events that led to Camlann, everyone had been so worried and so serious.

They followed the High Priestesses to a temple-like structure, with many tall stone columns surrounding a paved courtyard, which was open to the sky. In the middle stood a broad, low structure, like an altar or a bed, covered in red silks. 

"This is the sanctuary prepared for you, Arthur Pendragon," Nimueh said. "Rest here tonight."

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but evidently thought better of it. He could hardly stand on his feet. "Right," he only said, and nodded. 

Still holding on to Merlin's hand, Arthur slumped down on the red silk. Merlin crawled after him, graceless and exhausted, surprised to discover how comfortable their strange bed was. He'd expected it to be hard as rock. Merlin curled up in the crook of Arthur's arm, the two of them resting so close that they might just as well have been one being. Their eyes closed. They were already drifting towards dreams.

"Sleep well, Arthur Pendragon," Morgause said softly. 

"Tomorrow should bring you new counsel," Nimueh added.

"Look how sweet they are together, sharing that deep and eternal love," Morgana murmured. "Looking back, I believe that I was always envious of that connection."

Merlin was sinking into the darkness of deep sleep. He briefly wondered whether he truly had heard Morgana speak those words, or if they were part of a dream. He pulled Arthur closer, so that they could share body heat as well as lifeforce, and then he knew no more.

* * * *

When he awoke, Merlin felt rested. He sat up, looking around. Arthur was still sleeping, his lips slightly parted, his chest moving with slow, strong breaths. Merlin smiled.

It was bright day, sunlight spilling in between the stone columns and setting the silk sheets ablaze.

"Good morning, Merlin," he heard Morgana's voice. "You must be hungry and thirsty. Our apples are all you need."

Feeling vulnerable, Merlin swung around, placed his feet on the ground, and stood up. Morgana was standing in the shadow of a pillar, a basket filled with crimson apples carried on her arm.

Merlin didn't know what to say. His eyes wandered from her face to the apples and back again.

"You're wondering whether I am the evil fairytale witch with the poisonous apples, I see," she huffed. 

"That possibility did cross my mind," Merlin admitted. 

"Well, I'm not," Morgana said. "I am not the woman I was. I am at peace, and I carry no grudges against my brother. As long as you and he are bonded, you are safe from me and my sisters."

Merlin looked at her. She did appear calm and rested, a far cry from the driven and distraught madwoman that had stopped at nothing to kill Arthur and make herself ruler of Camelot. Her hair cascaded in glossy locks down her back, and her crimson velvet gown was worthy of the queen she'd wanted to become.

"Arthur is the Once and Future King of ancient prophecy," Morgana continued, glancing at her brother who was still sleeping blissfully in the sun. His hair looked radiant, like a golden crown. "I didn't want to believe that before, but now I know it to be true. On Albion's day of utmost need, Arthur will save the realm."

"I am highly sceptical of prophecies," Merlin said, surprising himself. "I have found that in trying to avoid prophecied calamities, I was likely to just bring them about. I'd rather not hear another prophecy in my life."

Morgana grimaced. "I tend to agree. I was foretold that someone named Emrys would be my destiny and my doom. I tried so hard to prevent it— and look how that turned out."

Merlin nodded. "I was warned about you in a number of dire foretellings, too. If not for those, I might have acted differently." 

They studied each other for a moment in the bright light of day, each perhaps seeing the other more clearly than before. 

"Emrys means 'immortal', are you aware of that?" Morgana asked. "We may both of us have a very long time to ponder the past. And now that you've bound Arthur to you with the strongest magic there is, he will be caught firmly up in your fate. You are a dangerous creature, Merlin, meddling with life and death and destiny the way you do." 

Merlin bit back a tart reply. There was no point in starting a quarrel with Morgana. Yet he would never be able to forget the many casualties in her cruel attacks on Camelot. He would keep his guard up around her.

After an uncomfortable silence, Morgana shrugged. "What is done, is done. But I do not think I will ever be able to forgive you. The hurt is too deep, and I carried it for too long."

Merlin found no reply to give her. Protesting that he had done it all for Arthur's sake seemed futile. It was too late to change anything with words, and they both knew it.

"Here, have an apple," Morgana said, deliberately changing the topic. She handed him one of the crimson fruits. "You have tasted nothing quite like this."

Merlin was hungry. He let go of every misgiving, and bit into the ripe apple without hesitation. Morgana had spoken the truth. It was as fulfilling, as refreshing and nourishing as any meal he had ever had. He felt wellbeing seeping through his entire being, mind and body. 

Morgana placed her basket on the ground, and turned to leave. "Make sure Arthur eats his fill when he wakes up. We'll be back later today, as soon as Morgause has finished her scrying."

Merlin looked after her as she made for the opening between two of the pillars. "What...." He bit his lip.

"Did you have a question, Merlin?"

"What do the three of you _do_ here, all day?" Merlin asked, curiosity getting the better of him. "The Isle is beautiful, but it looks very empty and isolated." 

"I only just arrived, remember," Morgana laughed. "I haven't had time to get bored yet, nor to go exploring. There is a wholesomeness here that makes it easy to cherish calm days filled with quiet contemplation. But when a change of pace is needed, we are free to step through to any dimension of our choosing. Like this." 

She gestured at the empty air, and a portal appeared right beside her, an opening into a magnificent golden hall filled with people in fantastic clothes, the likes of which Merlin had never seen. The women in their wide-skirted, many-coloured gowns wore their hair piled impossibly high and adorned with flowers, jewels, and even small sculptures. The men's attire was equally eye-catching. Painted and bejewelled masks lent them all an air of mystery. Enchanting music and delighted laughter spilled out of the portal and made Merlin want to dance and laugh, too. Morgana arched an eyebrow at him, stepping through to the other side with ease. And just like that, both she and the portal were gone.

* * * *

Arthur had eaten his fill of the apples and was pacing impatiently when all the three High Priestesses reappeared. They stepped dramatically out of a portal which briefly showed a backdrop full of glinting crystals, before the gate closed in thin air.

"As promised, we have scryed for a solution," Morgause said. 

"And we have the answer you seek," Nimueh continued. 

"But there is a catch," Morgana finished.

Arthur frowned. "Please, just give me—" he glanced at Merlin, smiling apologetically. "Just give us the information, good and bad."

"There is a way for you to be healed and whole again, Arthur," Morgause replied. "I have seen it. If a unicorn places its head in your lap and its golden horn in your hand for you to cut off, and so voluntarily gives up its life for you, you will have your life back and be healed."

Nimueh nodded, her long tangled locks swaying with the movement. "That may seem hard enough to achieve on its own, but it turns out there's an added difficulty."

"Which is?" Arthur prompted, impatient.

"We have also scryed far and wide in search of living unicorns, but we cannot find any. The last one must have died years ago."

* * * *

They left the Isle the next morning. Arthur was in good spirits, and his optimism was contagious.

"Of course we'll find a unicorn," he'd told Merlin once they were alone. "We know just the place where they live, don't we? The animals are magic, they probably know how to hide their presence from sorceresses of dubious repute."

Merlin laughed. It felt good, seeing Arthur in such high spirits, planning another wild quest just for the two of them. "The sooner we leave this Isle, the happier I'll be," he said.

"The ladies making you uncomfortable?" Arthur grinned.

Merlin's mood turned immediately sombre. He couldn't quite manage to banter about it. Looking back over the path he'd taken, and his run-ins with the three sorceresses, he saw so many deaths and tragedies, all because of his incessant work to keep Arthur safe from harm. He'd do it all again if he had to, but his heart ached. So many lives, so much magic, silenced forever. 

"I hope we are at a watershed now, so that magic will be used openly and for good throughout the lands," was all he said. 

"And for once, I completely agree with Merlin." Morgana joined them, stepping onto the flagstones in a swirl of crimson. "I've come to bring you down to the boat." 

The walk between Avalon's green fields was much more pleasant this time. Both Arthur and Merlin had been strengthened by their sleep and by the Avalon apples. As long as they stayed close together, they were doing fine. 

The three of them walked in silence for a while. Merlin had a distinct sense that they were creating an imprint on time, so that they would always be seen moving through this sacred landscape— the beautiful Morgana with her dark, flowing hair and red gown, Arthur, tall and fair and radiant in the sun, and himself in his worn jacket and red neckerchief, his simple and threadbare form holding the strongest magic the earth had seen. Merlin was in a strange mood. He felt as if he was haunting Avalon already. 

Arthur finally broke the silence. "You are content here, Morgana? I am sorry things turned out the way they did."

"It wasn't your fault," Morgana conceded. "Uther must take the blame. And Merlin, of course."

If she intended to goad a reaction from him, Merlin didn't take the bait. After a beat, Morgana continued, "I am as content as I can be, Arthur. Avalon is a place of spiritual healing, and my anger and resentment have largely faded. I feel the better for it."

They were approaching the shore. Their boat was ready and waiting, and out on the lake, mist drifted across the water. 

At the very last, Morgana gripped Merlin's arm. "Emrys," she said. "I think you owe me many favours for the harm you have caused me, but I ask only this; look after my darling Aithusa. She is all alone now, and must be afraid and confused. You are the only one with the ability to take care of her."

Merlin nodded his acceptance. "I will do as you ask. For her sake, as much as for yours. She deserves a better life."

"Here -" Morgana dropped her silver triskelion pendant into Merlin's palm. "Show her this, and she'll know you speak for me."

"Aithusa?" Arthur asked, confused.

"Merlin hasn't told you? I thought the time of secrets was over," Morgana snapped, annoyed. The thought of Aithusa's fate visibly upset her.

"Her dragon," Merlin said, feeling a new stab of pain. Aithusa had been his responsibility. He had failed the young dragon miserably. "She's the only remaining dragon in Albion, now."

"Oh," Arthur only said, evidently thinking better of demanding further explanations. After a beat, he reached out to shake Morgana's hand. "Goodbye, sister. May you fare well."

Morgana met his eyes. It was as if a sliver of ice in her heart was melted by the warmth she found there. She smiled the genuine, loving smile of the young Morgana at him. 

"Farewell and good luck, Arthur. Despite everything, I wish you joy now and ever, and hope you find what you are searching for." 

She handed him the small bag she was carrying. "Avalon apples for your journey. You will need strength during this unicorn hunt of yours."

Arthur accepted the bag, and leaned in to kiss her cheek gently. "Thank you, Morgana."

Morgana looked at Merlin. "I have not been able to see your future, but this I nevertheless foretell, Merlin Emrys. We two will never meet again. That makes me glad."

Merlin found no words in response. When Arthur stepped into the boat, Merlin hurriedly followed him. Morgana's animosity was wearing him down. 

The boat took them away from shore. 

"Do not be surprised if you find the world different than before," Morgana called after them, raising her hand in a final gesture of farewell. "They say that such is Avalon's impact."

Bands of mist already trailed between the boat and land, obscuring Arthur and Merlin's view of the island. The last thing they saw was Morgana, a splash of bright crimson amid the roiling grey. Then she was gone, and the Isle of Avalon once more hid itself in the mists of time.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

* * * *

Their boat crossed the lake at even speed, hardly rocked by the choppy waves. A cold, brisk wind was blowing, dissolving the fog.

Merlin wasn't entirely surprised when they suddenly entered an area of strange calm, where the wind died down and the sea turned placid. As soon as the boat halted, he leaned across the railing, looking down into the dark waters. 

"Freya?"

A shimmering shape was rising from the depths. With a flash of silver, it crossed right under the boat. "I'm here," came Freya's voice from the other side. 

She was chest-deep in the lake water, and she looked as lovely as ever. Merlin's heart skipped a beat. There were waterlilies in her long hair, which spread out on the lake surface, and she wore a shimmering raiment of some strange, flowing fabric that captured the light. Her pale skin looked smooth and transluscent as if made from pearls. She had the enchanting appearance of a mermaid. Merlin was astonished. He had expected to see nothing more than her hand at best.

"Freya!" 

"It's good to see you again, Merlin. It's been a long time."

He wanted to reach out to her, to pull her close and to embrace her, but something held him back. Freya was no ordinary woman, but a powerful spirit of the deep. Her physical presence might be an illusion. He did not want to shatter it. 

Freya turned her bright eyes to Arthur. "I have looked after Excalibur for you all this time, Arthur Pendragon. You will need your sword on the quests to come. I will give the weapon back now with my blessing, but I ask one thing from you in return."

"Name it, lady," Arthur said, his expression serious and his eyes wide. Freya's beauty was not an everyday sight.

"Merlin loves you with all his heart. Do not hold back any more on showing him how much you love him, too. I want him to feel cherished. I want him to be happy."

Arthur glanced in Merlin's direction, his cheeks taking on a tinge of red. Merlin was suddenly extremely aware of the bond between them. There was an undeniable surge of strong emotion, and he sensed Arthur's heartbeat picking up speed. Merlin blushed. 

Arthur nodded. "I swear to you that I will show him my heart, my lady."

Freya nodded, but her face was sad. She raised her right arm out of the water, the mighty Excalibur held firmly in her small fist. "Then have your sword back, King Arthur, and wear it to good fortune."

As soon as Arthur had accepted Excalibur from her hand, Freya turned to Merlin, looking one last time into his eyes. But before he could react or say anything, she was gone. Only a single white waterlily floated on the water where she'd been. 

Merlin reached out to cup the fragile flower in the palm of his hand. He regarded it gravely, placing a kiss on one pale petal. "Thank you, beloved," he whispered, placing the waterlily gently back on the water. There was a glint of silver in the deep, and then the boat moved on.

* * * *

Reaching land felt like being weighted down with a heavy load. They had left the supportive magic of Avalon behind, and the simple act of stepping back onto ordinary soil sapped their shared strength like a drought will empty a river of its water.

"I can barely stand. The sooner we find that unicorn, the better," Arthur grumbled, turning to give Merlin a helping hand as he clambered up the muddy slope from the lake. "Otherwise we'll have to crawl while continuing the search."

Merlin studied the forests and the barley fields along the lake-shore. "This looks different, doesn't it?" he muttered. "What has happened?"

"Well, the grain fields mean there are people nearby, which is good. We'll need help," Arthur said. "We have no food, no horses. And Anhora's woods are a long way off."

"We've got the Avalon apples," Merlin reminded him, brandishing Morgana's bag as evidence. "They will suffice for a while, and as for a steed to take us to the forest...."

He raised his head, looked up to the sky, and let out a roar. _"O Aithusa! E male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"_

"What on earth?" Arthur exclaimed, looking around in worry. He was clearly taken aback by the volume and intensity of Merlin's voice. 

Merlin gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm just calling the young dragon, compelling her to come to me," he said. "I'm the last dragonlord. I don't think I've had time to tell you that yet."

"No, you certainly have not," Arthur said, voice cold. "Wasn't that Balinor fellow supposed to be the last dragonlord?"

"He was. I inherited his powers when he died."

Arthur frowned. "There apparently will be no end to the secrets you've kept and the surprises you'll continue to spring on me."

"I'm sorry," Merlin said, dejected.

Arthur glared at him, but his expression softened when he saw Merlin's misery. "I'm still getting used to your magic," he said. "Sorcery has made me deeply uncomfortable, even afraid, my whole life. And the only dragon I've truly known wreaked havoc on Camelot. You'll have to give me time to come to terms with all this."

There was a rushing sound from beyond the trees, rapidly increasing in intensity. A huge shape came flying towards them, blocking out light as it crossed overhead. The dragon let out a piercing scream as it descended in the field where they stood. The thud of Aithusa's landing made the ground tremble. She was a massive beast, her pale-pink skin covered in a thick armour of pearly scales. Her wings were still distorted, and her body-shape would always be awkward, but she had no difficulty flying.

Merlin gaped at her. He felt dizzy. 

Aithusa's immense bulk could only mean one thing.

Arthur had taken several involuntary steps back, but now he stood his ground. "Are you sure this is Morgana's dragon? I saw her creature in the sky above Camlann only last week, remember. It was tiny, compared to this."

"Yes," said Merlin grimly, pulling Morgana's silver pendant out of his pocket as he walked forward on wobbling feet to address Aithusa. "This is Morgana's dragon. Aithusa has had time to grow. We must have been gone for years."

"What? _Years?_ "

"Many years."

Merlin stopped in front of the white dragon, who reared back on her hind legs and once more let out a deafening cry.

"Aithusa, I have commanded you to come because I want to help you, and we need your help too." He lifted the pendant so her small, suspicious eyes could see the pendant clearly. "Morgana has asked me to do this. She worries about you. She would be glad to know you have managed so well, all these years on your own."

Aithusa stomped her feet, her wings spreading wide and re-folding in agitation. Slowly she brought her head forward, sniffing the pendant. Her eyes met Merlin's. She squeaked. 

Merlin reached out to pat her scaly snout. "You still cannot speak, I take it? That doesn't matter, Aithusa. You're not alone anymore, and I understand you."

The huge bulk slumped. Aithusa lay down in the field, only her eyes moving as she looked from Merlin to Arthur and back again. She sighed, the warm air expelled from her lungs ruffling Merlin's hair and making his neckerchief flap. 

Arthur came forward gingerly to stand by Merlin's side. "Hello, Aithusa," he said. "My name is Arthur. I understand that you miss Morgana. She is well, but she cannot come to you now. I hope you will join us instead. We're not half bad, as companions go."

The dragon regarded him steadily, eventually emitting a couple of soft screams and grunts. She didn't sound hostile. That would have to suffice, Merlin decided.

"Aithusa, we need to travel quickly to the forest west of Camelot Castle," he told her. "We want you to take us there." 

Arthur gripped his shoulder, squeezing it hard. "Is this even possible? Won't we be killed? Have you ever travelled on a dragon's back before?"

"Yes, I have. It's an unforgettable experience," Merlin assured him. 

"Oh, I don't doubt _that_ for a second."

"We can reach Anhora's forest before dark, if we leave now. Once we're there, we'll make camp. There are the apples for us to eat, and we'll have fire and light," Merlin said, briefly letting magic flood his eyes to make his point. "And then, we must try to make sense of what has happened to us. And to Albion. And we must plan ahead."

"All right," Arthur said, squaring his shoulders. "If you can make her accept us as passengers, let's go."

* * * *

They flew high over forests and fields, rivers and villages. In the gathering dusk, everything below them looked like tiny toys on a large, painted board. The intense rush of cold air in their faces, and the thundering sound of Aithusa's heavy wingbeats, made talking impossible. Merlin held on to Aithusa's spiky neck, and Arthur sat behind him, his arms holding Merlin in a tight embrace.

"Wo-hoo! This is amazing!" Arthur yelled in Merlin's ear, wild excitement in his high-pitched voice. Merlin turned to flash Arthur a delighted grin. There just wasn't anything that could ever compare to speeding through the air on a dragon's back.

They reached their destination in no time, the dense forest a black mass under the rising moon. 

Aithusa landed in the field closest to the woods. Merlin and Arthur climbed off her back and stood for a moment by her side, regaining their footing on solid ground, looking around for a place to set up camp. 

Aithusa emitted a plaintive little cry. Merlin reached up to pat her neck. "Thank you. We'll be staying here tonight. I hope you'll keep us company."

The dragon snorted in what sounded like glee. "I think that was a yes," Merlin told Arthur.

"Good," Arthur replied. "Look over there, those trees at the forest edge? Let's stay there tonight."

Despite their flagging strength, it didn't take them long to prepare their makeshift camp. Merlin collected firewood and soon had a campfire going. Arthur used Excalibur to chop down some wide, leafy branches for them to sleep on. "I want to make myself useful," he told Merlin. "If you do everything for me with magic, I might as well abdicate."

Aithusa stayed in the field, observing their every move. When they settled down in front of the fire, she inched closer, resting her big head on the ground next to Merlin. He reached out to scratch her snout, and she made a rumbling sound deep in her throat, almost like a loud purr.

Arthur regarded Merlin and the dragon across the flickering flames of their little fire. "Well, here we are. So far, so good. These last days of magic and mystery hardly seem real to me. It's like I've lived through a crazy fever-dream."

Merlin leaned back, closing his eyes. He was bone tired. "Yes. It's been a wild ride. And it's not over yet."

"Do you really think that many years have passed here?" 

"I think time passes more slowly in Avalon," Merlin replied, speaking carefully as he made sense of his jumble of thoughts. "Didn't Morgana hint at that with her parting words? And who can say how long our sleep in Avalon lasted? Was it one night, or one year, or ten?"

"My head hurts," Arthur muttered. 

Merlin sighed. This hitch in time was a painful complication he had not foreseen. 

"Do you think everyone we know are gone, then? Do you think Gwen is dead?" Arthur tried hard to ask the question matter-of-factly, but the slight tremor in his voice gave his feelings away.

"I hope not," Merlin said. "Although I do fear for Gaius."

They sat for a while in silence, each beset by heavy thoughts. 

Eventually, Merlin spoke again. "We could find a village and ask people there what year it is, and who rules Camelot. Or we could have Aithusa fly us to Camelot Castle. But if it turns out that all our friends are gone, will you still want to find a unicorn? It's not an easy task. There may not be any unicorns left. Even if we find one, who's to say it'll want to give up its life for you?"

Arthur didn't reply at once. He used a stick to poke at the fire, making the flames dance. His eyes shimmered in the shifting light. Merlin realized Arthur was fighting back tears. 

"Yes," Arthur replied at last. "I do want to live. I have a duty to the people of Camelot. Let's find that unicorn first, and then let everything else follow on from there."

Merlin had expected nothing less. Arthur would never give up fighting for the good of Camelot and for the whole of Albion, protecting the people from harm. "The once and future king," he whispered to the fire and the night. How could he have forgotten that prophecies always seemed to be cruel riddles rather than plain foretellings of truth? Why should this one be different?

"Even if it turns out that we are actually in the future now, and our lives of last week are spoken of as history and long ago, that doesn't change who I am. I am and remain the king of Camelot. I will never relinquish my responsibilities," Arthur said with emphasis. His voice was strong and confident now. He had made his decision, and he pushed every doubt aside. His course was set.

Merlin nodded. "And I will be right by your side, every step of the way, for as long as you'll want me there."

"I do want you by my side, as close as can be, always," Arthur said. There was a different sort of glitter in his eyes now, and it made Merlin blush. 

"Come here, Merlin."

Slowly, walking as if in a dream, Merlin left Aithusa and made the few steps required to take him to Arthur. Reaching out, Arthur took his hand and pulled him down into his arms, kissing Merlin's brow and holding him tight. 

"We belong together," Arthur said. "It's not because of the magical bond, or your life shared with mine. It seems to me that we are two halves of a whole. I think everyone has known, except us."

"It's true," Merlin murmured. "The great dragon told me so, long ago. It's our destiny. Morgana saw it, too. And the knights." 

"Yes, they all knew. Gwaine and Leon, always rolling their eyes at us... Even Gwen must have seen it, I think," Arthur whispered. "And your beautiful Lady of the Lake clearly was aware of it. That's why she made me promise to show you my love."

"But we both repressed it and pretended there was nothing there," Merlin said. "For all those many years."

"Well, denial ends tonight," Arthur replied, and kissed Merlin on the lips. It was a gentle touch, but it made Merlin shudder. "If you want me, that is?" 

His heart brimming with joy, Merlin looked into Arthur's eyes. Eagerly, he threw his arms around Arthur's neck. They toppled backwards on the green leaves. "I want you," he confirmed. "I think I've wanted nothing else from the day we first met."

Aithusa looked their way and huffed, her breath fanning the campfire's flames. Neither Arthur nor Merlin noticed. The white dragon growled. Then she curled up to sleep, her body creating a wall that shielded the new lovers from the wide world beyond.

* * * *

Early the next morning they each had an apple and many kisses for breakfast. Despite his increasing physical exhaustion, Merlin still felt giddy with love, and from the big grin on Arthur's face, he knew they felt the same.

They set out determining how best to hunt unicorns. Merlin considered trying to spot one from Aithusa's back, but the forest foliage was dense, and a hunting dragon would probably scare the magic creatures into hiding. 

Arthur believed a more direct route to be the best approach. He stepped in between the trees, raised his head, and bellowed; "Anhora! Anhora, are you here? Anhora, can you hear me? I need to speak to you! Anhora!"

They waited for a response, and Arthur repeated his call several times as the sun rose higher in the sky, but everything was quiet. There was not the tiniest glimpse of the mysterious old guardian of unicorns. Except for birdsong and squirrels' chatter, the woods seemed deserted.

"What about your magic?" Arthur asked at last. "Can't you scout for unicorns in your mind, or magically compel them to come to us, or some such? This is where your powers will come in handy."

"I don't think— I can't really do any of those things," Merlin replied. "Especially not now, when most of my powers are spent on keeping you — keeping us alive."

"I should be disappointed, but I'm actually relieved to hear there are limits to what you can do."

"I could try to scry, but if Morgause had no success, my chances are slim."

"Do we know what unicorns fancy? What do they like to eat, are they like horses? Or will a male react to an ordinary mare in heat? We could try to set traps."

Merlin laughed. This was pretty ridiculous. The two of of them, weak as kittens and without provisions, their time running out, up against a vast stretch of dense forest and the most elusive animal in the kingdom. And that was if the unicorns even existed anymore. The odds were not in their favour. 

"The old-fashioned way it is, then," Arthur concluded, his voice brisk. "We'll just have to comb the woods. We knew it wouldn't be easy."

"Just let me go tell Aithusa what's happening. I don't want her to feel that we're abandoning her."

"Fine. But then we're going hunting. Just like old times, Merlin. Won't that be fun?"

* * * *

Arthur and Merlin fought their way deep into the ancient forest. They clambered between boulders, crawled across fallen trees, and struggled up uneven slopes where ferns and long grasses made the footing treacherous.

"Aren't you enjoying this return to our glory days?" Arthur puffed, hands on his thighs and head lowered, trying to get his breath back. 

"I have never been that keen on stalking prey," Merlin panted, equally exhausted. 

"You always crashed through the trees and made more noise than a bull in a potter's shop," Arthur wheezed, trying to laugh.

"I saved more than one deer that way."

"I knew it! You did it on purpose!" 

Merlin laughed. "Maybe. Now and then." 

Arthur shook his head, feigning disgust, but he couldn't hide his fond smile. He was very pale, Merlin noticed. Tracking through the forest was sapping his limited strength. 

"Maybe we should rest here," Merlin said. "If we stay in one place for a while, the unicorn might come to us. Stranger things have happened."

Arthur glanced around, studying the mossy rocks and dense foliage. "I hear rushing water, probably a small river. Let's continue on until we reach it. We could do with the water, and maybe the landscape is more open there. A unicorn could pass twenty feet from where we stand right now, and we would likely miss it."

Merlin nodded. What Arthur said made sense, but he was so tired. He needed to sit down more than anything. 

"Come on, Merlin, we can do it. As long as we are together, there is nothing we can't do."

Arthur had always been amazingly good at inspiring others, Merlin thought, as he shuffled after Arthur towards the river. Arthur led by example, demanding more from himself than from his men, making them all achieve the impossible. The knights of Camelot would do anything that their king asked, and so would Merlin. As long as Arthur believed they could locate a unicorn, Merlin would not lose hope. 

The sound of water was closer now. Arthur reached out to push aside several branches, and turned to Merlin with a weary smile. "Our goal is in sight."

The forest river sparkled in front of them, the clear water rushing by quickly. The river was shallow, and they were able to wade across it. They found an open spot on the far bank and dropped down, their knees nearly giving way. Both of them were exhausted. Merlin noticed with worry that Arthur had dark circles around his eyes, and his hair looked dull and lifeless.

Acting on routine, he helped Arthur pull off his boots and his chainmail, not without a bit of a struggle. He watched Arthur recline on the lush grasses, cooling his feet in the sparkling water. 

"Mmmm. Now that feels good," Arthur said, closing his eyes. "I think the magic of this place helps me. I can sense it vibrating from every tree and rock."

"Yes," Merlin agreed. "There are elemental powers at play. I suppose that's why the unicorns live here."

A small smile played on Arthur's lips, but he clearly was unwell. Merlin looked around, willing a unicorn to appear. Surely the animals would come here to drink? He had only the vaguest idea how Arthur could get the magical being to give up its life for him, but he was waiting to cross that hurdle when they reached it. There would be a way. Arthur would be saved, and be whole and well again. 

But no unicorn showed itself, and after a little while, Merlin lay down next to Arthur, taking his hand and squeezing it. It was reassuring for the both of them to touch the other. The bond between them, Arthur's only lifeline, was strengthened by the physical connection.

Without intending to, they fell asleep. 

The shadows were long and the light had faded among the trees when they woke. There was the peculiar silence that sometimes can be experienced in the forest at dusk, when the day critters are taking shelter for the night, and the night hunters are not yet on the prowl. Only the river bubbled and whispered as before.

Merlin sat up, confused and a little dizzy. Hoping against hope that a unicorn would appear, he scanned their surroundings, but they were completely alone. He splashed some river-water on his face to clear his thoughts, and used his cupped hands as a scoop, so he could drink. The water was chilly and refreshing. 

Arthur was still sleeping, his beloved face in shadow. He barely seemed to be breathing. The cold hand of dread gripped Merlin's heart, as he admitted to himself just how much of a toll the last few days had taken on their shared, but rapidly flagging strength. Their bond was fraying already. He sensed that it would break soon.

The quest to find healing for Arthur was winding to its end, unless Merlin could somehow make a unicorn appear. He knew of no other cure, not when the Sidhe had refused to help them. He could call Aithusa to bring them back to Camelot, but what would that achieve, except more heartache? 

Had their long journey with its strange adventures been in vain?

Merlin got up to collect firewood. Once he had a fire going, he kneeled by Arthur's side, gently nudging him awake. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead." 

Arthur opened his eyes. They filled with joy when he saw Merlin. He smiled. "Good morning."

"More like good evening, at this point," Merlin huffed. "It will soon be night, and we should sleep some more. But we need to eat first."

Arthur pushed up on his elbows, blinking tiredly. "Seen any unicorns?" He still had hope in his voice. 

Merlin's heart sank. "Not yet," he replied.

"They're really playing hard to get," Arthur grumbled, gratefully accepting a sip of water from Merlin's cupped palms. 

"How do you feel?" Merlin asked, although he knew the answer.

"Little bit tired," Arthur admitted. "I'll be right as rain tomorrow."

"Of course you will," Merlin said, and handed Arthur a slice of an Avalon apple. "Here. It's the last one. This will work wonders."

"What, no five-course dinner on golden plates? I don't believe you're the most powerful sorcerer in the world, with this pathetic showing."

Merlin chuckled, mostly because Arthur wanted him to.

Arthur managed to eat most of the fruit, and to drink some more water. Silently, he reached out to the fire, warming his hands. The night was mild, but nevertheless he was shivering now. 

Merlin was nearly overwhelmed with grief and anxiety. He pushed as much energy as he possibly could through their magical connection, nearly depleting himself, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to scream and rage at every god and goddess as he watched his king, his friend, his lover, slowly losing his brave battle to stay alive. 

Merlin had to turn away to dash a few treacherous tears from his eyes. 

Then, with sudden and absolute clarity, he knew the solution to their predicament. He knew what he had to do. He knew how to save Arthur.

* * * * 

Night fell. Merlin fed more wood into the fire, and settled into Arthur's waiting embrace. He knew in his heart that this was his destiny and his true home. He belonged at Arthur's side, forever.

He let his hands roam freely beneath Arthur's worn tunic, certain that his touches were welcome. 

"This feels so good," Arthur murmured, pulling Merlin closer, seeking his lips with his own. "Why did it take us so long?"

"You tell me. But all the more reason to enjoy ourselves now," Merlin replied, kissing Arthur hungrily. If only his passion could be enough to cure Arthur, he would be good as new in no time.

Merlin was familiar with every part of Arthur's body. During his many years as manservant he had seen Arthur naked, had assisted him in the bath, had tended his wounds. But being able to freely touch and kiss in order to give comfort and pleasure was still a very new experience, and Merlin revelled in the joy of it, the sensations, the overwhelming rightness. His hand dipped below Arthur's waistband, his fingers circling Arthur's cock. 

Arthur exhaled, hiding his face in Merlin's neck as the hand holding his cock picked up speed. Arthur slipped his own hands into Merlin's baggy breeches to cup and knead his lean buttocks. "Just wait till I am well again," Arthur panted. "When I can have you in my bed all night long, no clothes to hamper us..." 

"I can't be doing this right, if you're still able to talk and plan ahead," Merlin grumbled, re-doubling his efforts. He wasn't satisfied until he'd managed to reduce Arthur to incoherency, so that occasional gasps and moans were his only sounds. 

The bond between them didn't let Merlin share Arthur's thoughts, nor his every emotion. But the sensations flooding Arthur now were so intense that Merlin could take part in them through their magical connection. He felt Arthur's climax building as if it were his own. It was incredibly arousing. Merlin groaned. When Arthur came, his cock twitching in Merlin's hand, coating it with semen, Merlin at once lost control and finished too. 

They clung to each other for a while, too exhausted to move or speak. Merlin knew that they had spent the last remnants of their strength, when there truly had been none to spare. But he didn't regret a thing, even if this was to be their last night together. It was only right that they should share such intimacy. 

"I love you," Merlin whispered.

The ghost of a happy, carefree smile played on Arthur's lips and lit up his eyes. 

"Come here, let me hold you. Close your eyes," Arthur murmured. Tenderly, he kissed Merlin's eyelids. "I love you more. But I couldn't shout it from the rooftops. I had my royal dignity to uphold."

They curled up together, closer than two peas in a pod, each strengthening the other with his touch and his presence. But their deep sleep was the precursor to oblivion, not to healing.

* * * * 

Arthur wasn't able to stand up the next morning. His legs wouldn't function properly. Merlin's heart ached to see him so weak. He made Arthur as comfortable as he could, helping him sit up, bringing him water, and placing Excalibur close at hand. There was no time to spare.

"Today is the day the unicorn appears," Merlin said. "I know it."

"You're not giving up?"

"Never." 

Merlin took Arthur's hand and squeezed it, leaning in to kiss his brow and touch his sunken cheek. "I'll walk around in the woods a little, see if I can flush the unicorn out of hiding. You just wait here and keep watch."

"You're leaving me? Won't that break the bond? I thought we needed to stay together?"

"We do, but I'm not going far. It'll be all right. I'll be very close by. "

"See that you do, Merlin. I don't want you to— to get lost, or anything. I'm not in the mood to rescue you."

Merlin smiled, though he wanted to cry. "I'll soon be back," he said, turning away to hide his tears. He hurried in among the riverbank trees on trembling legs. 

As soon as the dense foliage hid him from Arthur's view, Merlin stopped and drew a few long, shaky breaths. This was it! He had to act quickly. He needed most of his powers to make his plan work, and that meant weakening the bond that was barely keeping Arthur alive as it was. 

Merlin wasn't a talented shapeshifter. It was a dangerous form of sorcery that required regular practice. He had rarely had the need for it, or made the effort. But he did know how to do it, and his need had never been greater than now. 

Without hesitation, Merlin whispered the shapeshifter's incantation. Drawing on most of his powers, wrapping himself in the ancient magic from head to toe like a cloak, he envisioned the animal he wanted to become; a white horse, with flowing mane and tail, and with a twisted golden horn protruding from the proud head. 

Merlin's magic started shifting around him, building a unicorn shape, pressing into his skin. Once he had shapeshifted, the animal's instincts would guide his behaviour and decide his actions, but first he'd have a brief interval where he'd be the animal, but still be ruled completely by his own mind. Those moments were precious, and he intended to make them count.

At the very last, when his own shape was dissolving, Merlin called out. "Arthur, the unicorn, it's here! I'll drive it in your direction!"

Merlin's shape shifted. He became a real unicorn, a magnificent and beautiful beast, and he hurtled from the cover of the trees and out onto the riverbank.

Arthur was still alive, but only barely. He had to have heard Merlin's cry, and his eyes went wide at the sight of the unicorn. The animal ran right up to Arthur, lowered itself to the ground next to him, and offered up its golden horn.

For a moment neither of them moved. They seemed frozen in time.

Arthur looked in awe at the beautiful unicorn with its head in his lap, freely yielding its life to him. Then he reached for his sword, his limp hand barely able to grip the hilt. But Excalibur was no ordinary weapon, and it seemed to lend him the necessary strength. Arthur brought the sharp edge down across the unicorn's head. The sword-strike made a sound as of glass shattering. There was no blood, but the horn came off at once. 

The magical bond between Arthur and Merlin snapped. 

Thrashing its legs in death throes, the unicorn whinnied once, its eyes rolling back. The big body twisted away from Arthur to avoid crushing him. 

The last thing Merlin saw was Arthur, holding the golden horn in his hand, staring at it in wonder. 

They had managed to fulfill the purpose of their daunting quest. Arthur's lifeforce would be restored to him. Merlin had saved his life.

A flash of joy and gratitude crossed Merlin's mind. Then he knew no more.

* * * *

When he awoke, it was evening. Arthur was kneeling beside him, watching him intently, his hand on Merlin's chest.

Merlin blinked in confusion. He was dead, but Arthur was supposed to be alive. How could they be in the same place?

"Merlin!" Arthur pulled him up and nearly crushed him in a firm embrace. His arms had regained all of their previous strength. "You miserable scoundrel of a no-good, sorry sorcerer! How _could_ you?"

"Eh, what?" Merlin murmured, thoroughly confused. 

"You died for me, don't you remember? You made me kill you!"

"Uhm..."

"I don't think I'll ever forgive you."

"Don't be so harsh on him," a creaky, yet commanding, voice said. "Merlin has shown complete selflessness and a pure heart. In these woods, that means he earned his own life, as well as yours." 

Merlin looked around, searching for the speaker, although he recognized the voice. "Anhora?"

The old man stood on the opposite riverbank, facing them across the water. He wasn't alone. There were two grown unicorns and a tiny foal with him. The three magnificent animals tossed their heads and stomped their feet when Anhora suddenly disappeared, re-emerging right next to Merlin and Arthur.

"You have both been healed, and your gifts have been evenly distributed between you. Use your powers and your long life well."

"What do you mean, our gifts have been distributed?" Arthur asked Anhora warily. "Am I partly a sorcerer now?"

Anhora coughed, looking miffed. "You are a warrior as before, Arthur Pendragon. Merlin is the sorcerer. What was already perfectly balanced needs not be altered. But Merlin is immortal, and now so are you."

"Immortal?" Arthur was taken completely aback. 

"Indeed," the old sorcerer said, and blinked out of existence. His raggedy attire swayed around his lean frame when, one moment later, he re-appeared back with the unicorns. "There will be eternities for you two to get into fresh trouble. But please do not bother me and my unicorns again. I find you and your self-sacrificing ways most annoying."

Arthur spluttered. 

Having delivered his parting shot, the old man disappeared into thin air. The unicorns turned tail and galloped off.

"I know how Anhora feels," Merlin chuckled. "You can be a terrible nuisance at times, King Arthur."

"Look who's talking," Arthur muttered darkly.

Merlin got to his feet and stretched his body, revelling in the feeling of his magic returned. His powers seemed fully intact. 

Shaking his head at the strangeness of it all, Arthur looked Merlin in the eye. "I think I'm glad not to keep sharing your magic. It made me a little uneasy, when truth be told. But— immortality? Did you know?"

"No," Merlin answered truthfully. "Well, not until Morgana told me in Avalon. But I had other pressing matters on my mind just then, so it did not really register."

"An eternity with you...?"

"Horrid prospect, I know, but you're a brave man. You can take it."

"One thing at a time," Arthur said. "First, I want to travel to Camelot and find out what has happened to Gwen and our friends."

Merlin nodded. "Let's discover how long we've been away."

"Let's go at once."

"Even better, let's fly," Merlin said, throwing his head back to summon Aithusa.

* * * *

It was festival day in Camelot. There were people everywhere, in the courtyard, streets and fields. Young and old were in a good mood, dressed in their best clothes. Many carried cheerful banners. The sun was shining.

Aithusa had to drop Merlin and Arthur off quite a distance from the castle to avoid being spotted by the crowds. But before she landed, they were able to see the royal standards that flapped from every tower and turret; a golden dragon on a field of crimson. 

Camelot was still flying the Pendragon family sigil. 

"Gwen is alive," Arthur exclaimed, pinching Merlin in his excitement.

"Oww!"

"And she's still the queen!"

As soon as they were back on firm ground, they hurried towards town, joining all the revellers going the same way. 

"We are travellers from far away," Merlin told a young woman with a pretty flower garland on her head. "What sort of celebration is this?"

"Why, it's the queen's annual celebration. We're going to see the pageant."

"How long has Queen Guinevere been your ruler?"

The woman frowned. "Oh, a long time, almost my whole life. I think it's been seventeen years or so since good King Arthur passed away."

Thanking her, Merlin turned back to Arthur, who had gone pale. 

"Seventeen years," Arthur muttered, aghast. "I can't believe it."

"But at least you're remembered as good King Arthur?" Merlin said, hoping to ease the shock with a bit of banter.

"Seventeen years," Arthur repeated, as if Merlin hadn't spoken.

Merlin gripped Arthur's arm. "There will still be people here who might accidentally recognize us. Let me do something about that. Until we know more, it feels safer to be here incognito." 

A brief flash of gold in Merlin's eyes was all it took for him to cast a glamour. It subtly altered their appearances and made them unrecognizable. 

"Seventeen years," Arthur sighed.

Passing through the outer gate, they looked around with keen eyes, studying the changes.

"How prosperous everything looks," Arthur said, impressed. "There are many new houses in the lower town. And all the market stalls are overflowing."

"The pathways have been properly paved. No more wading through mud on rainy days," Merlin mused.

"And the castle has been repaired. Look, the southern tower has been rebuilt, it's much grander than before. Gwen is doing well," Arthur said admiringly. "I knew she would. I couldn't have hoped for a better successor."

There was a large crowd outside the castle. Many people were lining the road from the gates, and a buzz of anticipation hung in the air. Suddenly the throng erupted in loud and happy noise. "Long live the queen! Long may she reign!"

"It seems we arrived at exactly the right time," Merlin shouted into Arthur's ear. Arthur nodded, but kept his eyes fixed on the gates, which just now swung open. 

A troop of crimson-cloaked mounted knights emerged and clattered past. They were followed by a line of heralds in Pendragon livery. Next, the royal entourage came fully into view. 

Arthur tensed, and gripped Merlin's hand so hard that Merlin yelped.

Dressed in a magnificent red velvet gown, Queen Guinevere rode out through the gates on a handsome white mare. She waved and smiled, acknowledging her people's cheers and well-wishes. Middle-aged now, Gwen had gone a little stout, and under the golden crown her hair was showing streaks of grey. But her eyes were bright, her bearing confident, and her smile was warm and generous as she greeted her subjects. She looked every inch the wise and powerful queen.

Her people rewarded her with a fresh wave of jubilation. "Long live the queen! Long live the prince consort!"

A tall and slightly stooped man in a long, blue velvet cloak was riding next to Gwen. It took a moment for Merlin to recognize Leon without his usual red cloak and large mop of hair. Leon was going bald. He'd cut his hair short. 

Behind the royal couple came a handsome young boy and a slightly younger girl. The two looked so alike that there was no doubt they were siblings. Although they waved merrily at the crowd, and handled their ponies with ease, they seemed a little shy. Both wore small golden circlets in their curly hair. 

A girl next to Merlin screamed loudly, jumping with excitement. "Long live Prince Arthur! The prince, the prince!"

Merlin's own Arthur looked completely stunned, as if he'd seen a ghost. His lips silently formed the boy's name.

The young prince and princess were accompanied by a giant of a man on an impressive horse. Percival had aged, too, but still looked a formidable fighter. He scanned the crowds with sharp eyes. Gwen was smart enough not to let her children out into such dense and raucous crowds unprotected. 

The royal family moved on down the procession route. The parade was long, and there was much to see. An unassuming man on a steady pony brought up the rear. He'd look entirely ordinary, if not for the sparkling flowers and glittering butterflies he kept launching into the air to disappear in flashes of light. His fingertips blazed with power, and his eyes were pure gold. The children in the crowd were delighted, and their parents applauded and cheered. 

The man was clearly practicing magic in plain sight, and no one seemed to mind! Merlin could hardly believe his eyes. Even though he guessed the answer, he still had to ask a man standing next to him; "Who is that?" 

"Lord Gilli, the court sorcerer," the man replied and shrugged, as if this astounding fact was of little consequence.

It was Merlin's turn to feel dizzy. He nudged Arthur's arm and pointed in the direction of the lower town, raising his voice. "Let's go find a tavern." 

Arthur nodded, still looking dazed. "I don't think I've ever needed strong ale more than I do right now."

Despite the dense crowd of patrons, they managed to secure a small table at the back of The Rising Sun. The place had changed. It was larger, and seemed much cleaner and more orderly than Merlin remembered. The service was better, too. 

Arthur and Merlin soon had pints of the strongest available ale in their hands. They drank in silence. Both struggled to come to terms with all that they had just witnessed.

Eventually, Arthur spoke. "So, Gwen has re-married."

"She's married Leon. He's a good man. And loyal."

"He is. She's known him all her life. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

"You didn't want her to be alone forever, did you?"

"Of course not, Merlin. But neither did I expect to be around to see her new husband— and her children by him."

Merlin sighed. "I'm happy for Gwen. They looked like fine kids."

"She named the boy Arthur...."

"In time, there will be another King Arthur of Camelot," Merlin pointed out. 

Arthur didn't reply. Merlin glanced at him from above the rim of his tankard, trying to judge how severe the shock had been. 

Without saying another word, Arthur downed his second ale, and his third. Then, to Merlin's relief, he finally decided to break the silence.

"I won't stay here," Arthur said. "I won't let Gwen know that we're back. She believes me long dead, and has managed to move on. She deserves happiness without complications. And look at all she has done for Camelot. She is a wonderful queen."

"And?" Merlin prompted, when Arthur didn't immediately continue. "What do you intend to do?"

"I won't give up on Albion," Arthur stated. "With my Excalibur and your magic, there are many wrongs we can right, many lives we can save, in Camelot and beyond. We can fight dark and dangerous magic together. And we needn't announce who we are, you know."

"One long quest? Adventures? Just me and you?" 

"That's my plan. With Aithusa, of course."

Merlin beamed. "Of course."

Arthur got up from the table, moving towards the exit with renewed purpose and a spring in his step. "Come on, Merlin. Don't be so slow! We've got things to do."

* * * *

Legend has it that King Arthur will one day return from Avalon, although there are some who believe that he already returned a long time ago. As the centuries come and go, they say, the king travels through the land forever, and next to him rides his eternal companion, the great sorcerer Merlin. Together, the two of them protect Albion, keeping the people safe from harm, frequently achieving the impossible.

Most think that this is just a myth, mere wishful thinking made into a tale to be told on dark winter nights. 

But I know that it's true.  


  


**~The End~**


End file.
